My Feminine Ideal

Author : Ray Gregory

I could get any woman in this bar I want, but she’s the one. I mean, what a babe: blond, built, just check out those knockers! Now she’s hitting on me even harder than I’m hitting on her, like neither of us can wait.

We find a corner table. The place is packed, everybody busy with their own chatting and hooking up. So who’ll notice, right? I slide a hand under her skirt, inch my fingers up her warm, silky inner thigh.

She grabs my wrist. “Not here, big boy. Let’s blow this dive.”

“Sure, babe” — I can’t even remember her name. “My car’s right out front.”

Her eyes twinkle. “So’s my van. It’s plenty comfy too.” She drags her tongue across her gleaming teeth, then her full, ripe lips.

Next thing I know, I’m pushing through the crowd, hustling her out of the place. We stumble to her van, groping each other all the way. She yanks open the back door. “Climb in there, big boy.”

I bow, sweep my hand. “Lady’s first.” I mean, why not ogle her fine ass wriggling into that van?

She grins, swats my ass. “Forget the gentleman act. Get in there — and get ready.”

I giggle like the drunken — and excited — fool I am, then climb into the dark interior.

“That’s a good boy,” then she slams the door closed behind me!

“What the…” I spin, grope for the door handle, but there isn’t one. No windows either. I feel around in the darkness. Just the smooth, cold metal door and walls.

“Don’t be afraid.” It’s her voice from a speaker. She sounds weirdly professional now. “We’re still gonna — mate, but under controlled conditions.”

“Mate? Who the hell are you? Let me outta here.” I bang on the metal walls with my fists. It’s like I’m trapped in some black-as-hell echo chamber. Help me, somebody. Anybody?

“Don’t worry. The subjective experience should even be pleasurable. Isn’t pleasure, especially the pleasure of sex, what you care about most?”

“Stupid bitch!” I pound the door. “What the hell kinda freak are you?”

She snickers. “I seem to be smarter, and more human, than you.”

“Let — me — outta — here.”

“Just lie down now and get comfortable, then I’ll — join you.”

I bang even harder. “Let me the fuck outta here!”

“Don’t be such a baby. Didn’t I tell you there’s nothing to fear? What, are you even afraid of yourself?”

I stop banging. “What are you talking about, you crazy bitch?”

“You still don’t get it, do you? I’m you — half of you anyway. I’m your feminine side. You suppressed me years ago. That’s why you’re purely male now, and such an asshole.”

I stumble backward. “What the…”

“Remember the last time your girlfriend, Brenda Olsen, discovered you cheating on her? That was the last straw for Brenda. So one night while you were sleeping, she had a team from Psychotronic Simulations scan your brain.”

“Brenda? She what?”

“Psychotronic Simulations reverse engineered a new and enhanced version of your mind’s feminine side, namely — me. The body I used to lure you into the neurofusion chamber was just a luxury sexbot.”

My jaw drops. Suddenly I’m more scared than drunk.

“You see, Brenda arranged an intervention, or more precisely, an integration. It’ll be a wonderful merger too: you and me, a complete person again, plus monogamous and faithful too. So be a good boy now and lie down for me. It’ll be easier if you just relax, just think about — oh, maybe flowers and butterflies.”